


Crossroad and Downfall

by Valgus



Series: Words of Nations [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Feliciano, I think I’m going to die.”</p>
<p>It was the last days of World War II and Germany knew it was not going to end well for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroad and Downfall

_Insanity in individuals is something rare,_  
_But in groups, parties, nations, and epochs,_  
_It is the rule._  
  
\- Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

This country had gone insane.  
  
Germany stood on stone-pavement street, looking up to ruins of what once was a street full of houses. When he started to move, he had to walk slowly so that he didn’t stepped on dead bodies that scattered all over the ground, with dark colour of blood reflecting the destruction on the land and sky.  
  
This country had gone batshit insane.  
  
He felt nauseous as something tugged inside him. He wanted to cry so much that he wanted to laugh. His eyes were stinging with pain to cry, but instead he wanted to laugh his head off, raising his hands to the sky as he did, screaming the name of his leader.  
  
Now that the country had gone insane, what about its personification?  
  
For the first time since he remembered of having consciousness, Germany wanted salvation. If not, perhaps oblivion. Whatever it would be, he wanted to be free from the insanity.  
  
But no one escaped their sin.  
  
Neither did Germany.

* * *

It was the last days of war on the office when Germany was doing some paperworks. His people were all over the place, body and mind. He tried his best not to falter, not to act as if something was going to be unusual. He was the fatherland and work was work.  
  
But America, Britain, and Russia were going to come anytime soon. And when they do, perhaps they would hang him right away.  
  
The image of Italy’s boss flashed in Germany’s mind. The other so-called leader had met its dishonourable demise and his corpse was hanged for public display. Germany didn’t know what disturbed him more; the death or the public humiliation of his dead, lifeless body.  
  
To be frank, Germany wasn’t afraid of meeting his end.  
  
He was only scared of the torturous pain.  
  
Pain of being tortured by enemy wasn’t bad at all compared to the one he was going to have when people attempt to squeeze the life out of him. He was a nation. Nation didn’t die easily.  
  
Maybe in the end, they didn’t want him to die.  
  
They simply want him to suffer.  
  
“West!”  
  
Prussia’s voice slapped him away from his scary thought. Germany looked up to a pair of red eyes, the ones that looked down at him with worries. The blond nation quickly formed a formal smile.  
  
“Yes, Brother?”  
  
“West, are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Okay. Good. If you’re tired, you can rest from your work.”  
  
“I will if I do, Brother. Thank you.”  
  
Prussia gave his little brother a loving squeeze on the shoulder, before leaving the other side of Germany’s table. Germany quickly looked down on his works again and started to work furiously, until he realised that someone stood beside him.  
  
Italy had surrendered, yet the Allies let him walk around freely, knowing that the auburn-haired nation wasn’t a threat. With such damage on his body and people, it wasn’t like Italy had capability to do anything more than crying for pasta.  
  
“I don’t have pasta, Italy,” Germany sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  
  
“I’m not here for pasta, Germany!” sang the smaller nation cheerfully. “I’m here to help you! Do you think there’s anything I can help you with?” Italy’s hand reaching out for Germany’s hand upon the document and touched it.  
  
Germany could feel his face heating up and he quickly tug his hand away from Italy’s, “If you keep doing this, I will send you home at once.”  
  
“Ve? Why, Germany? There’s no need to be so shy,” Italy pouted, even though Germany didn’t see his face.  
  
Germany only grumbled and continued to work.  
  
“You’re a bit like Holy Roman Empire,” Italy giggled, but with a hint of sadness. “He’s dead—no. Sorry, I mean—“  
  
“Feliciano,” the German spoke sternly. “Please don’t feel the need to make conversation. It’s really not your area.”  
  
But Italy kept talking, even though Germany had already reminded him by using his human name. The blue-eyed nation could feel Italy’s gaze at the side of his face and Germany had stopped moving his hand on the document.  
  
“When he was dying… when he was going to the very long war—“ Italy’s voice was so soft, like he was telling Germany a bedtime story. “—he was always strong and kind. Except when he thought no one could see him.” Italy chuckled sadly, “I saw him once. He looked sad.”  
  
“Feliciano,” Germany warned. He really wanted to focus on his work rather than listening to a sad story of dead nation.  
  
“You look sad… when you think Prussia can’t see you,” Italy offered a smile right at the moment when Germany finally turned his head towards the smaller nation.  
  
Germany was taken aback.  
  
He looked sad when he thought Prussia couldn’t see him?  
  
Italy looked deeper into Germany’s eyes, “Are you okay, Ludwig? And please don’t just say you are, because I know what that means—looking sad when you think no one can see you.”  
  
Germany was still shocked, but he managed to stutter, “But… but _you_ can see me.”  
  
Italy only smiled, his smile was warm and radiant like always, “Well, I don’t count, Ludwig.”  
  
Germany blinked.  
  
“What I’m trying to say is…” Italy’s voice calm and strong. “…If there’s anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I just mean… I mean… if there’s anything you need—“ the amber-eyed nation huffed and gave up, “It’s fine.”  
  
Germany blinked one more time, “But what could I need from you?” Italy was already having a hard time back on his land. What was the Southern nation could possibly do for him? What was the crybaby, pasta-loving, small Italy could do for Germany?  
  
Italy chuckled, “Nothing. … I don’t know. You could probably say ‘thank you’, actually.”  
  
Germany blinked even more, “‘Thank you’…?”  
  
Italy shrugged and stepped backward, “I’m just going to go and get coffee. Do you want anything, Ludwig…? Ah, it’s okay. I know you don’t.”  
  
Germany quickly raised from his seat, “Well, actually, maybe I—“  
  
But Italy was already at the door. “I know you don’t,” repeated the shorter nation before vanishing to the corridor.  
  
Germany stood still on his chair, blinking furiously in confusion.

* * *

It was summer when Germany waited for Italy. Summer night kept some pleasant memories for Germany, but now he just wanted to go to sleep.  
  
Perhaps forever.  
  
His defeat was clearer than his shadow under the summer sun. Soon the fight would come to an end—and perhaps he would come to an end as well. It wasn’t weird for countries to passed away after war. The war might didn’t last long, but the wound Germany inflict to some people already crawling back at him, choking him as he breathe.  
  
When Italy walked out from the building he worked on, after he shook hands with some men in uniforms, Germany approached him, walking out from the shadow.  
  
“You’re wrong, you know,” the taller nation said.  
  
Italy was visibly when he heard him, “Ludwig? W-what are you doing here?” Italy’s face went so pale as if he just saw ghost.  
  
“You’re wrong, Feliciano,” Germany shook his head. “You _do_ count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.”  
  
By this point, Germany held both of Italy’s hands on his, as he looked down dearly on the shorter nation.  
  
“But you were right, Feliciano. I’m not okay.”  
  
Italy squeezed Germany’s hand, his eyes were shining with tears, “Tell me what’s wrong, Ludwig.”  
  
Germany’s smile didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. He was so scared, but he felt so safe for some reasons. “Feliciano, I think I’m going to die.”  
  
Italy trembled visibly, but holding Germany’s hand tightly, “What do you need?”  
  
Germany felt the familiar tremor; the desire to cry so much that he just wanted to laugh insanely. The blond nation didn’t break his eye contact with Italy, “Feliciano… listen to me… if I wasn’t everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am…” If Germany wasn’t the strong, admirable man he believed he once was…  
  
Feliciano’s tears already fell on his cheeks.  
  
“If I wasn’t all _that_ ,” Germany used his thumb to wipe Italy’s tears. “… Would you still want to help me?”  
  
Even with tears staining his cheeks, the auburn-haired nation stood still, “Tell me what do you need, Ludwig.”  
  
Staring down to those warm, honey-coloured eyes, Germany muttered the truest thing, the most perfect and logical answer that could possibly exist in this insane world.  
  
_“You.”_

**Author's Note:**

> If you know “Sherlock”, the BBC serial, you probably know the conversation between Sherlock and Molly. I think it’s a wonderful conversation and I was thinking of applying it to GerIta.
> 
> I think in general Ludwig let his guard down in front of Feliciano, because Feliciano acted so freely in front of Ludwig. Beside, it is indeed canon that sometimes they sleep together.
> 
> I’m not quite sure what I want to say in this note. I believed I have a point.
> 
> Anyway, I just finished “The Pianist” again, so perhaps I still carry the imagery in my head. If you haven’t watch it, let me tall you that it’s a good movie, but the kind that changes you, meaning you’re a different person before you see it and after you did. Basically, I bawled my eyes out and it was rather painful to watch, but I’m glad that I understand the horror.
> 
> Thank you for reading “Crossroad and Downfall”. I really appreciate it.


End file.
